You Know You Want This
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Roger tries to ignore Mimi as he plays his guitar, but its not working...my first real RogerMimi fluff fic, so be nice! oneshot, rated T fro suggeasted sexual stuff, woohoo!


Roger sat on the armrest of Mimi's small couch, his guitar held expertly in both hands. His fingers, worn at the tips by this very use, plucked at the strings, sending fluid cords out into the apartment.

Roger lifted his head to shake back his hair and realized that Mimi, who had been painting her fingernails, had capped the bottle and was watching him from the bed, her eyes half-lidded. She fanned her hand, trying to dry the polish but never taking her eyes away from him.

Roger looked down at his guitar. He knew what that look meant, and she knew it too. _Resist, resist_, he told himself, trying not to look up. But he had to. He always did.

Now she was leaning forward, her dry hand idly twiddling a lock of hair. Her eyes, large and brown and deep, stared at him, through him.

"Mimi, I can't play when you stare at me like that," sighed Roger, looking down again. He heard sounds and knew that she had moved from the bed.

"C'mon, Roger, you know you don't mind. In fact, I think you like it." She languidly slipped behind him, getting onto the small metal table that rested behind the couch. She curled her legs under her, sitting back on her haunches. Roger sighed and started playing again, an old song that he used to play for hours drifting out of the strings. Her breath, sweet and warm, wafted over his ear, and he plucked a wrong note. Hurriedly, he did the right one and strummed a chord, which also went awry when another puff caressed his neck.

"Mimi, can't I just play in peace?" he asked, trying to sound a lot more exasperated than he felt. She only chuckled deep in her throat and said nothing. He played the opening chords for a song, losing himself in the music. But once again, she jolted him out of his music trance by putting her hands on his shoulders, slowly and gently massaging them.

"Mimi…" he started to say, but the rubbing and the feeling of her hands blanked his mind. He tried again.

"Listen, Mimi, I…" He trailed off, losing his thoughts as she leaned over and softly kissed his neck.

"Mimi, c'mon, you…" Now Roger couldn't think anymore, couldn't focus on anything, only the feeling of her hands and lips and breath on his skin.

"Roooooger…" her voice floated past his ear, like the sweetest strain of music. He shivered, and with that shiver she knew she had him.

"Baby, you know you want this," she whispered, and her tongue gently pressed against the bottom of his earlobe. Roger's hands slowly drifted down, the guitar finally resting on his lap as she made her way over his ear and down his jaw. Her mouth moved upwards and found his, tasting like a piece of tender fruit as she kissed him. Roger made one last attempt to escape, to pull away, but they both knew that pulling away was the last thing he wanted. His mouth finally responded to hers, lips and tongue curling and rippling. She snaked her hands around his neck and pressed him closer, their torsos touching now.

Roger couldn't stand it anymore. The guitar dropped gently onto the floor as he slid off the armrest, his body pulling hers with him as he used his feet to push himself up the couch. Finally his head touched the opposite armrest and he stopped. They were now lying on the couch, Mimi's slight frame resting on top of Roger's strong, square body. Their kissing grew more frenzied now, slight noises and groans creating rhythm for them as their bodies moved together, corresponding to each other like different notes in a song. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands encircled her waist.

Mimi shivered as she felt Roger's fingers slowly creep up under the back hem of her tight shirt. She drew back for a moment, gazing into his eyes. He smiled slightly and nodded. Almost laughing, she plunged back in. This was good, this was one of the good times, one of the times that they knew they loved each other. They needed these times; they helped to erase the bad ones.

His hands moved across her back, feeling the muscles and skin, cupping her shoulder blades. In retaliation, she snaked her arms under the front of his shirt, hands sliding across his stomach and chest. Now his mouth left hers and moved to her neck, tongue sliding across the smooth brown skin. Mimi shuddered and gasped, but made no move to stop him. She squeezed his shoulders, the muscles bunching.

She loved him, loved him more than even she could understand, and someday she was going to say that. Someday she was going to let him know for sure. But now, as his hand slid over her back and his mouth grazed her neck and she felt so much _part _of him, so connected to him and everything he was, her mind, like his before, was blanked, and the thought of when she would tell him once and for all slipped from her mind.

No matter how much she showed her body at the Cat Scratch, no matter how many people wanted to do this to her, Roger was always better than all of that.


End file.
